


Relax For Me

by intoapuddle



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:39:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoapuddle/pseuds/intoapuddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris suffers from anxiety, and he can't talk about it. </p><p>(Warnings: Internalized homophobia, mentions of bullying and descriptions of panic attacks)</p><p>Thanks to dizzy for reading through and giving her opinion before I put it up!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relax For Me

When Chris was sixteen, he experienced his first panic attack.

 

It was during a sleepover with his then girlfriend Melissa. Most of the day had been good. They had watched a couple of movies, laughed at stupid infomercials, taken pictures of each other and generally had a good time. Chris felt good. Melissa had a way of making him smile the same way his sister made him smile.

 

Melissa didn't view Chris in the same brotherly way, though. Of course she didn't. Though Chris didn't understand how anyone could be attracted to him with his terrible skin and his terrible hair and his nerd-references every other sentence, she was. Chris could tell, because she kept massaging his shoulders and leaning in close to his ear whenever she wanted to say something. She was always standing close to him, touching him, and Chris didn't mind. It was flattering, and he liked her. He just wasn't _into_ her the way he was supposed to.

 

So when Chris and Melissa decided to call it a day, they ended up sharing Chris's parents' bed. That was mistake number one. His parents were away on a trip to the hospital with his little sister, and while most teenagers would think that was a good reason to get drunk and do whatever they wanted, the wildest thing Chris ever did was sleep in their huge bed and order take-out every other night.

 

Mistake number two was not making it clear that Chris wanted to _sleep_ and nothing else. It wasn't as though Melissa was trying to force herself on him. She was a shy girl and above all she understood social cues, but tonight she was a little less concerned with the way Chris flinched when she pressed into his side and looked at him with hooded eyes. After a long conversation about one of their collectively despised peers at school, they somehow ended up with their eyes locked, and an electricity that filled the space between them.

 

Chris didn't know what to do. He wanted this, deep down. He wanted to have a girlfriend and be a regular guy that was invited to do guy-stuff and not be looked at twice because of his voice, or appearance, or interests. Despite his personal resentment towards most of the other guys at school because of how they treated him, a part of him wanted to be like them,but he wasn't. Chris liked being alone. He would never be interested in a _real_ girlfriend, because he didn't understand what they could do with him that he couldn't take care of himself. Chris loved musicals and writing stories and expressing himself. No guys at school thought that was cool, and they made damn sure he knew it wasn't.

 

Chris wished it didn't bother him so much, but he was reminded of how much he stood out all the time here. He had to be pulled out of music class because people threw stuff at him whenever they dimmed the lights to watch a movie. He tried to push the thoughts out the best he could, but being deemed as a 'distraction' just by sitting in the same room as some idiots who couldn't wait for the opportunity to throw pens, erasers, or wet wads of paper at him was painful. It pulled at the corners of his mouth downwards. It made his eyes sting. It stiffened his posture. It made him fear for himself whenever he passed a group of guys in the hallway. He couldn't stop feeling that way either, even when he knew that the fear only made him a better target. He _knew_ they'd yell something. Well, not as much 'something' as _the same thing_ , every day. That thing that was painfully accurate, unless he made belief that him and Melissa actually were a couple, and that he wanted them to be.

 

And so, when the opportunity came to kiss his girlfriend, he stayed put. He let her lean forward and press her lips to his. They weren't even that serious of a couple. They were best friends in Chris's book. One day at school Melissa had come up to him and he had said “hey, girlfriend” in an obviously joke-way (to Chris anyway. He had a history of confusing people with his sarcasm), but she'd took it literally and asked him if that was what they were. Chris, going for sarcasm again, had said yes. And now she insisted on referring to him as her boyfriend.

 

It wasn't the kiss that brought on Chris's very first panic attack, though. It was after, when Melissa pulled away and went in for another one. The way her face had looked before she leaned back in, as if she was assessing something, made Chris nervous. He knew exactly the word she was thinking. It was the the same thing people at school yelled at him, and even though Chris refrained from using it in reference to himself at all costs, he knew _everyone_ thought it of him. Melissa had been the one person he thought didn't, and that was one of the things that made him feel so comfortable with her.

 

So the second kiss didn't happen because she wanted to kiss him. It happened because she wanted to check if what everyone thought was true.

 

“Chris,” Melissa said once they parted.

 

Chris could tell that she was nervous, and it only made him feel worse.

 

“Do you--- I mean,” she cleared her throat awkwardly. “Do you really want to be my boyfriend?”

 

“Uh, yes,” Chris had responded, cheeks already red and hot.

 

He wanted to get out of bed. His heart was hammering inside his chest and his palms were sweaty. He needed to get out of there. He needed to drink something. His mouth was so dry. He didn't know how to approach this feeling in his stomach, this wooziness that he couldn't shake.

 

“Chris,” Melissa said, her voice so calm and knowing too much. “You can tell me if you don't want us to be together. I understand.”

 

“What do you mean?” Chris asked, and he swallowed repeatedly, but his throat was clogging up.

 

“I mean, since you're... gay,” Melissa said.

 

The words were whispered so quietly, and though Chris was certain Melissa didn't think that homosexuality was an abomination of any sort he knew that him being gay made her think less of him. It made _everyone_ think less of him. It made Chris think less of himself. How could he not, when it was the most commonly tossed around insult at school? It was just another reason on his list on why he couldn't be like other people, couldn't be normal.

 

Chris's silence said it all, and Melissa touched his arm reassuringly. Before she could say anything else, though, Chris sat up in the bed.

 

“I'm thirsty,” he said. “You wanna go to the kitchen?”

 

Chris would never fully enjoy the taste of lemonade again after that night. Once him and Melissa were in the kitchen, that was the only thing he could find in the refrigerator that wasn't milk, so he gulped down a large glass of it, and then another. It didn't help. He could feel his hands start to shake already, and despite drinking all that lemonade, his tongue still felt big and dry in his mouth.

 

Then Melissa was close to him again, and he turned around, and they kissed. Chris was only wearing soft shorts and a t-shirt, and he suddenly felt very cold. He didn't think much of the kisses. They were brushes of lips and accidental tongue, both of them too shy to take it any further. They weren't good or bad. They just were.

 

“It's okay, Chris,” Melissa said then. “You can be honest with me, like... I'm still your best friend.”

 

That was the thing. She was 'still' his best friend, as if his sexual orientation could be a reason for her to end their friendship.

 

“I know,” Chris said then, finally feeling able to speak.

 

“So I'm right?” Melissa asked. “You are gay?”

 

Chris literally couldn't get out of this corner. He had never been asked that before. He'd just had the term thrust up on him, never given a chance to deny it. But now that he was faced with the question, his inability to do just that surprised him.

 

Because no matter how little he wanted to be associated with it, or how much he wanted to prove all of the bullies at school wrong, that was who he was. He _was_ the worst thing that you could be in high school, and he couldn't change it. When he watched musicals or superhero-movies he much preferred to relate to the object of the hero's affection than the other way around. He wanted to be saved. He wanted to be told that everything was going to be okay, and that there was nothing wrong with wanting that. He wanted big arms around him at night. The idea of something hard pressing into his back and a dark voice telling him everything he wanted to hear turned him on more than anything else.

 

Chris stuttered out his answer.

 

“Well-- you, um-- yeah I--... You know I don't _like_ anyone but I... Yes, I-I am, I guess.”

 

The way he said it sounded a lot more casual than he felt inside, even through the stuttering. He couldn't accurately transcribe the weight of his internal battle, and absolutely not through his voice.

 

Melissa didn't give him much of a response or reassurance besides repeating “I'm _still_ your best friend” after his confession. When they were back in Chris's parents' bed, they were out of conversation and said good night. Melissa fell asleep almost immediately, and once she did Chris's emotions hit him full force.

 

He wanted to throw up. It was as if his entire world was spinning out of control. His stomach _hurt_ and his head was suddenly dizzy with regret. He should have lied. He should have lied. Oh, God, he should have just _lied_. Melissa was going to tell everyone, and then the few people at school that didn't already publicly humiliate him on a day-to-day basis probably would start doing just that. And if they didn't, they'd just ignore him. When Chris thought about it, that hurt just as much. It hurt to not be normal, and to know that all of the people he hated at school were right about him. He was just a fag. That was why his voice was so high-pitched, that was why he liked theatre and musicals, that was why the few friends he had were girls. Not because of anything else, but because he was just that fucking _gay_.

 

Chris would remember that night for the rest of his life. He would remember lying there next to Melissa with a thundering heart, feeling hot and cold at the same time. He would remember managing one hour of sleep, to wake up at seven am and have the memories flood his brain.

 

Thankfully, though, not much changed after his little confession. Melissa said nothing, not to anyone. They didn't even announce that they weren't together anymore, so most people assumed they were.

 

It got him through high school, having her there. And even though nothing in his outside world changed after he told Melissa he was gay, something inside of Chris did. He got more nervous. He got even more apprehensive on letting others in on his secret thoughts. He hated the idea of someone else having the upper hand on him. That they could hold something against him, something that he wasn't able to deny once he was asked. It was a pretty unreasonable fear, but it was settled deep inside of him, and he was reminded of it almost every single day.

 

Chris wasn't one to hold onto deep-seated, terrible secrets. He knew people around him that had done worse things than him such as breaking the law, having sex with the wrong person, using drugs, getting so drunk they made asses out of themselves. Chris did none of that, and still, he felt as though he was carrying around a big, heavy load of secrets that were just waiting to burst out of him at any given moment.

 

It was one of the few things that didn't change about him once he got famous. Almost everything else did. Chris's appearance changed. He became taller leaner, and fit better into his own body. He stopped stuttering as much. He learned how to manage and lower the pitch of his voice better. He became _funnier_ , and he got less lazy. He made sure to get things done on time, and he stopped limiting himself. He got more confident, and thought more of himself than he had before.

 

Some of his bad traits stuck with him, though. He still had a hard time when people tried to talk about his sexuality. He didn't have anything against being gay, absolutely not. When he got into the entertainment business he met _so_ many wonderful, accomplished gay men that it made him almost want to cry with how much he wished he could've known someone, anyone, like that growing up. But it still made him flinch a little inwardly when an interview turned from “so you tweeted this picture of your cat” to “you are such an influence for gay kids out there. What was your coming out story?”

 

Chris kept his answers floating and mellow. He hadn't told anyone about his real “coming out story”, because that's probably what happened between him and Melissa that night of his first severe panic attack. It just didn't feel like a positive story to tell. He didn't want to make a statement by being who he was. Chris wanted his hard work and talent to speak for him and nothing else.

 

He'd rather talk about getting bullied and having a handicapped sister than what it was like growing up as a gay kid. That wasn't _reasonable_ thinking at all, but it was understandable. Most to all of Chris's anxiety problems stemmed from the way he'd always been mocked for his sexual orientation as a kid, and he just didn't want to talk about it.

 

*

 

When Chris met Darren, he was initially appalled by his lack of filter. Darren was not ashamed of a damned thing, and he was open to everyone. His and Chris's connection had been instantaneous, though, and Chris learned to love how honest Darren was very quickly.

 

Being around such a positive influence every day changed Chris's life for the better. While Darren kept some parts of his life private in interviews and at public events, he told Chris basically everything there was to know about him. He didn't view ridiculously personal details about himself as embarrassing, not the way Chris did. Darren just said things, and sometimes it made things awkward and sometimes people thought he was a weird, but Darren always figured that life went on. Needless to say, Chris clung to him. Having a person there that made life seem so _easy_ , so lighthearted was like medicine for Chris's hidden, bitter heart.

 

Chris didn't let on how much Darren meant to him, not in comparison to how Darren reminded Chris. Darren often showed Chris his affection by going up to hug him several times during a long day on set or by telling him how well he was doing in particular songs or scenes. Chris, with a heart almost bursting with how much he enjoyed having Darren around, did little to reassure Darren of how much he meant to him. His gestures were subtle, but Darren caught up on them. It was another one of those reasons why they fit so well together. He noticed when Chris not so “accidentally” came to set on a day when he didn't have to film any scenes, happily spending the time he wasn't in front of the camera with him. When Chris saw Darren, Jenna and Kevin sit on a couch together at a party Chris made sure to squeeze himself in to sit next to Darren, no matter how small the couch was.

 

Instead of sending Darren texts at the end of the day telling him how much fun he'd had with him, Darren simply sent “You love me so much :)” and Chris didn't correct him. It was true. Darren knew it was true.

 

Darren understood Chris's sarcasm when no one else did. Darren admired the little things he saw Chris do when others thought he was too cool and successful to need that kind of reassurance. Darren was just _there_ , knowing Chris's needs without having them spelled out to him. Chris didn't openly complain, but Darren had a way of making Chris open up to him if something small was bothering him.

 

Darren was so open. He admitted to Chris that even though the media viewed him as straight, he personally identified as sexually fluid, meaning his attraction wasn't necessarily exclusive to just one gender at all times. And Chris was behind him on that one hundred percent, because he knew that if he was Darren would finally be able to tell more people about it.

 

Around the same time that Darren confessed that, though, him and Chris started to get a new sort of chemistry. It was a tension, a sensation that meant 'okay, we could be having sex right now' whenever they were alone. It didn't _just_ have to do with the fact that they were both able to get hard-ons for men. It had to do with their compatibility with each other, and when Chris found out Darren had a thing for guys as well it made him dare look at him for a little longer, each time their eyes met across the room.

 

It kicked Chris's self-confidence up several notches, because Darren always looked back with the same amount of lust under those dark eyelashes, but at the same time it scared him.

 

It scared him, because Chris had never tried anything with anyone. He didn't want anyone to know who he was in that position. He was glad no one knew what he looked or sounded like when he came. It was his safe-card, holding on to his virginity. It was like being able to say, yes, I am gay _but_ I'm a virgin. Because it was more okay to be a gay virgin than to be gay and sexually active. He didn't want that hold over him. He felt comfortable being seen as a kid by the media. He felt comfortable with most anything that took focus from his sexuality.

 

But then there was Darren, and Darren was fucking hot.

 

But still, Darren couldn't take his fear away. He couldn't make Chris feel okay about himself. He could be a comfort, and a reassurance, but he couldn't put something Chris thought was long since broken together with just the flick of his hand. The closer Chris and Darren got to one another, the more dependent they became on one another, and Darren seemed to realize just how scared Chris was all the time.

 

When you get close to someone, your relationship changes. Chris and Darren started to sleep in the same room (occasionally in the same bed), wake up together, work together and do most everything else together as well. When you're friends in the way that you talk about your problems and comfort each other, that's one thing. Another thing is to see the problems right in front of you, to hear them, and to start to notice how they affect your loved one's everyday life.

 

It took a year and a half of them knowing each other before Darren saw Chris have a legitimate panic attack.

 

Darren had seen him upset. He'd seen him nervous. He'd seen him on the verge of a meltdown. But this was different.

 

The worst thing about it was that it was at a public event. It was an award show that neither Darren or Chris were nominated to, but they went because their show and a couple of their cast mates were. Chris had seemed on edge from the moment he stepped onto the red carpet. Darren didn't hear what questions Chris was asked, because Darren was busy answering questions from interviewers himself, but when Chris and him reached the end of the carpet Chris was an absolute mess.

 

It was subtle, like most things about him, but Darren doubted he was the only one to catch up on it. Especially after Ryan looked between the two with eyes asking Darren to do something, get Chris out of there.

 

Chris's eyes were tinted red, his lower lip wet and twitching every now and again. Darren could make out the soft quakes of Chris's hands that he unsuccessfully tried to stop. The muscles in Chris's arms and shoulders were tight with the effort.

 

After they finally got away from spotlights and the cameras and the microphones, Darren grabbed Chris's wrist and dragged him into the privacy of the empty men's room. Once they were there, Darren realized just how severely anxious Chris were. His eyes were absolutely blank, as if his mind was in another place and seeing nothing. For the first time Chris was actually scaring Darren.

 

“Hey?” Darren said, trying to reach somewhere inside of Chris, who was standing very still. “What's going on?”

 

Chris's eyes closed and he breathed in a jagged breath. When his eyes opened they were filled to the brink with tears.

 

“Darren, I-”

 

“Come here,” Darren said urgently, pulling Chris into a hug.

 

Chris felt stiff and different in Darren's arms, but Darren told himself that it made him feel better. It had to. Because Darren didn't know what else to do right now.

 

Chris put his arms around Darren's waist weakly, but then he took a step back. At least his eyes were dry now.

 

“I need something to drink,” Chris said. “Like water. Or tequila.”

 

“Baby,” Darren said, a word that they so seldom used in public that it pulled Chris out of himself a little. “I'll get you some water, okay?”

 

“I kind of...,” Chris started, and then he looked down. “I have to leave.”

 

“I'll go with you,” Darren said immediately.

 

“No, don't,” Chris pleaded. “It'll look suspicious.”

 

“Oh, my God, Chris,” Darren said. “I don't _care_. We're going home and we're going to talk about this. Screw everything else.”

 

Chris didn't have it in him to protest. He was getting scared by his own behavior. For the past five years, ever since he got on Glee, he'd been able to keep his anxiety in check. The closest he'd ever gotten to this was an occasion when he was going to the movies and a gang of Glee fans had crowded up on him, forcing him to give them autographs and give them his attention and to take pictures with them while people violently shoved him as they walked past. He had to go home almost immediately, and once he was he got into a fetal position for half an hour before he managed to unravel himself.

 

And now he had Darren, who looked as though Chris and whatever he was dealing with was the most important thing in the world. It kept Chris from feeling the worst of the anxiety that tugged within him. Darren's mere presence grounded him a little bit, but when they were in the limousine to get out of there (thankfully going unnoticed by paparazzi), it started to get worse again and all Chris could do was sit there with his eyes closed, one hand in Darren's. He was still so caught up in what had triggered the attack that he wanted to crawl out of his own uncomfortable skin.

 

It was stupid. The reasons behind his attacks were always _stupid,_ but they were triggering. On the red carpet, some interviewer had asked questions that insinuated that they knew exactly what Chris and Darren were to each other outside of their professional lives. It shouldn't have worried Chris like it did since Darren and Chris technically weren't anything other than friends, but having a person you've never met before flood you with so much information, with so many _theories_ and reasons as to why what Darren and Chris were attempting to hide in fact wasn't hidden very well at all, just made that unreasonable fear of getting found out that had always been inside Chris accelerate and start to feel _reasonable_. That was the worst thing. If someone managed to convince Chris that what he wanted to think was his most unreasonable phobia in fact was rational, it got to his head and his body in a split second.

 

But Darren was there, and Darren followed him home and said nothing while Chris cried and shook in his arms.

 

No, Darren had never seen this before. Chris had told him that he had problems with anxiety. He had told him about the time at the movie theatre. But Darren had never realized it was this serious.

 

“Can you tell me what happened now?” Darren asked once Chris had been still and silent for a few minutes.

 

They were on Chris's bed, propped up with pillows and blankets against the wall. Chris's body was slumped against Darren's now, which reassured him that Chris was calming down and feeling better.

 

“I'm just so scared,” Chris said. “Of everything. I'm scared of people and the internet and fucking _everything_ , all the time.”

 

“Hey, shh,” Darren said against Chris's hair. “Just tell me what happened.”

 

Chris sighed.

 

“People think we're a couple,” he said weakly, and looked up at Darren. “I know we've said it doesn't matter what they think, but...”

 

“We aren't a secret,” Darren said fondly. “Okay? I'm very open with everyone how I feel about you.”

 

Chris stopped breathing.

 

“I know we haven't had sex or anything,” Darren said. “And we haven't exactly talked about this before, but we're like... boyfriends, aren't we?”

 

“We are?” Chris asked, and even though it brought him reassurance that Darren was actually kind of admitting he was in love with him in a weird way, he felt numb.

 

“I want us to be,” Darren said, so blunt and confident and unashamed as only he could be.

 

Chris looked up at Darren. They had never kissed outside of Kurt and Blaine. They were best friends, they _might_ have shared sexual fantasies that involved each other when they were drunk a couple times... But a romantic relationship was more than that. It was more than heated glances and chemistry.

 

“We could be,” Chris said, because it was true. “Some day.”

 

“Some day,” Darren echoed, and he looked into Chris's eyes smiling.

 

“By the way, we could totally get that guy out of a job if what he said offended you.”

 

Chris groaned. “He'd probably do a story on how he got fired because of us and how that just proves that we're 'secret lovers'.”

 

Darren chuckled a little. “You're probably right. What were your answers before, even?”

 

“I don't remember,” Chris sighed. “I blacked out. I had no idea what to do.”

 

Darren was silent then, and Chris sighed, slumping his head back against his chest again. He was glad that he'd been able to calm down so quickly with Darren there, but there was still discontentment beating within him. This was a problem. He couldn't be a public person if he kept having this problem. He couldn't get interviewed if he blacked out in panic and fear as soon as the interviewer zoned in on a subject that he couldn't deal with. He'd been to PR classes and learned the gist of it, but they only helped so much when he winded up in a situation that caused his entire body to revolt against him and make him forget how to speak.

 

“We need to do something about that,” Darren said, on the same train of thought as Chris. “You don't have to be so scared of the media speculating, you know? People speculate about me all the time, because that's what they want to do. If you can't give them the answer they want you'll just have to keep teasing them, you know?”

 

“PR 101,” Chris said behind a chuckle. “Thanks, I already took those classes.”

 

“Yeah, but you still freak out,” Darren said, not really up for jokes. “And I... It makes me worry about you.”

 

Chris looked up at Darren and he looked so ashamed and apologetic that Darren didn't know what to do.

 

“Baby,” Darren whispered, and Chris's heart ached at the affection as Darren rested his forehead against Chris's.

 

It was something Darren only said to Chris when he knew he had to get through to him. It wasn't about making him seem younger or less, it was just reassuring Chris thathe was Darren's. His protector. And maybe that was why Darren already saw Chris as his boyfriends, after all.

 

“It's fine,” Darren went on. “You can't control it. It's not your fault. But we need to fix it.”

 

“I can't fix it,” Chris sniffled.

 

'I can't' were two words that usually didn't come out of Chris's mouth unless he was joking, but this was a problem he had a history with not fixing.

 

“I've been struggling with this since I was a teenager and I just... I've gotten better, but it just can't be cured.”

 

“Do you want to talk about...,” Darren started, trying to phrase what he wanted to say correctly in his head before blurting something out. “The other times it's happened? I know you don't really, um...”

 

“I don't think that will help,” Chris murmured. “I told you about the time in the movie theatre.”

 

“But that's because you thought it was a justified reaction,” Darren said. “Tell me about the other times. Why are you so ashamed?”

 

Too close. Too hot. Too cold. There was a weight on Chris's chest now. Darren's arm suddenly felt heavy and too big around him, as if he was restraining his lungs, and Chris immediately moved out of the embrace. Darren looked small and defeated where he was sitting, back straight and gaze tight with worry when Chris turned to look at him, as far away from Darren as he could get while still sitting on the bed. Chris's heart twisted with pain.

 

“I'm sorry, it's starting again,” he managed to wheeze out. “I just...”

 

“We'll talk about it some other time,” Darren agreed, saying anything to make Chris calm down by this point. “Okay? Just breathe. It's fine. I'm not mad. I promise.”

 

Chris nodded, eyes shut, and sighed. He'd talk. One day, he'd talk.

 

*

 

It didn't take that long for that day to come. Things got back to its usual pace the first weeks after the event except for getting questions about it on set. When it was the other cast members, who Chris considered family by now, asking why him and Darren left early it was fairly easy to come up with an answer that was at least close to the truth.

 

They said one of them got sick, and that the other one had to take care of them. It was true, but not very detailed. Chord and Harry started laughing because they assumed Darren got “stomach issues”, apparently judging from their experience with some particularly gassy days spent with Darren. And Darren, the angel, just laughed along with them and smacked them across the back of their heads and didn't try to put the blame on Chris. And Chris fell deeper, deeper in love with Darren as the days progressed.

 

Darren deserved to know why Chris was so restrained. He really did. He deserved to know why Chris never initiated sex, and why flinched when Darren as much as kissed his cheek when they were alone together.

 

He was the best person Chris knew. He was a silly, stupid man with a big heart that cared about people and he worked hard for what he wanted. That combination made Chris not only love him, but admire him at the same time. And that was rare.

 

So when Darren and Chris had a weekend off together, Chris decided to tell him.

 

He told him about the start of it, and the progression of it. All of it got down to Chris's internalized homophobia and how badly he used to (and still could) feel about himself. It made him a bad person, all in all. Chris didn't want a relationship, public or secret, because where he grew up gay guys were looked upon as people who weren't supposed to settle down and only existed in gay bars across the country getting their freak on with other men. Chris didn't want to seem like he even had a sexual orientation to act on.

 

It was _ridiculous_ and self deprecating, and it made no sense. Chris was a twenty one year old virgin because from an outside perspective, sex between two guys was wrong and disgusting.

 

And Darren was sitting across from Chris by the kitchen table, holding his hand as Chris talked about that night with Melissa, and how freaked out he had been that she knew.

 

“It's ridiculous,” Chris sighed. “But the general mindset in Clovis was so... Like, it wasn't even a mindset. There was nothing else to choose from. Homosexuality was wrong and if you were gay you were wrong, but you weren't as wrong as you were disgusting. So when she kissed me, I kind of.. didn't do anything. It was my first kiss and deep down I was a little excited over it, but it wasn't, you know, movie-kiss _good._ It didn't feel like anything, really...”

 

“Yeah, I get it,” Darren said.

 

“Yeah,” Chris exhaled. “But then she pulled away and told me that she knew I was gay. Just like that. Without a warning she just slammed the truth I'd been trying to deny in my face and I just kind of realized that I was a sick, disgusting freak.”

 

Chris sniffled.

 

“And I still think like that sometimes,” Chris managed to confess. “I mean, nothing between us is wrong. I _know_ that. But I still haven't told my oldest relatives that I'm gay, you know? And they don't keep up with media so they... It's just making everything harder and I fucking panicked that night and I haven't managed to _stop_ panicking since, Darren.”

 

“Hey, it's not your fault,” Darren said, and his hand tightened around Chris's. He looked into Chris's eyes seriously. “I swear to God, Chris. If you're trying to put this all on yourself you need to stop right now. I get it. People can say all they want that the world is changing and becoming more accepting, but this is your reality.”

 

“Yeah, but I still...,” Chris started.

 

“No, not 'still',” Darren said, and he almost sounded angry. “You have an internal battle going on and you have to deal with it. You're fighting all the time to feel okay about it. I can tell. I could tell even before you told me, like... I've tried to move our relationship to other stuff, but...”

 

Other stuff. Kissing. Sex.

 

“Yeah, I have a problem,” Chris said, face drained from emotion. “I have a problem with intimacy.”

 

“But why?” Darren asked. “No one is gaining anything from you denying yourself of what you really want.”

 

Chris stared at Darren then. His hand squeezed Chris's, and his eyes were hooded the way they were when he wanted to kiss him.

 

“B-but,” Chris stuttered, not really knowing what to say.

 

Darren knew. He was absolutely _certain_ that Chris wanted him. Such an asshole. Such an irresistible, sexy asshole.

 

“No one, Chris,” Darren said. “Homophobes think you're an abomination just for _thinking_ that you're gay. Trust me, you're not going to win points from them by being celibate.”

 

“I don't wantto win-”

 

“Then what do you want?” Darren asked. “Do you want a reason not to have to give yourself to someone? Because if you don't want to have sex, that's all you have to say.”

 

“It's not...” Chris said, feeling flustered. “I want all of that.”

 

“Okay,” Darren said steadily. “And I'm offering.”

 

“I'm not ready,” Chris whispered then.

 

He was ashamed. He was a grown man, and he still felt like a child when it came to sex. If it had been someone other than Darren, he probably wouldn't even have had the guts to say no. But this was Darren, and they were honest with each other. Darren had already seen him at his worst. How much more could Chris make him put up with? Chris was already worried about how much Darren was giving up to be with him. They weren't eveb anything yet, and still Darren was always there for him, completely giving up on his sex- and love life in order to gain Chris's trust.

 

And still, Chris thought he wasn't ready.

 

Darren stood up from the chair then. He walked towards Chris's chair and squatted next to it so that Chris looked down on him. His eyes were so open and honest and Chris felt a rush of affection that made him want to give Darren everything.

 

“You don't have to be so afraid, Chris,” Darren said with softness in his voice. “I swear.”

 

Chris's eyes filled with tears even before he realized Darren's words were getting to him. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he blinked, and Darren's brows furrowed with sadness. One of his hand came up to dry it off Chris's cheek, but it only resulted in Chris crying more.

 

“I'm sorry,” Darren said. “Am I pushing you too hard?”

 

“No,” Chris sniffled. He felt gross and unlovable, but Darren's eyes might as well have been the shape of two hearts on the sides of his nose. So much love was radiating from his mere gaze. “I don't know why I'm crying.”

 

“You know, it's not about getting off,” Darren said then. “Like... You are beautiful and I want to be close to you in that way. And you told me that one time, remember? That you wanted to come in me?”

 

It startled a wet laugh out of Chris, and Darren smiled.

 

“We swore we wouldn't talk about what we say when we're drunk,” Chris scolded him, but he was still smiling.

 

“I just... It turned me on of course,” Darren said with a slight blush on his cheeks. “But it's romantic and... poetic in a way, too.”

 

“Only you could find poetry in come and asses,” Chris muttered, still going for jokes, but Darren took Chris's hand in his.

 

“I just know that you wouldn't regret it if you opened yourself up to that world,” Darren said.

 

Chris smiled down at him. Darren was so sincere, so unironically passionate about things. He was the most passionate person Chris knew. Of course he thought of sex like that, as a connection between two people who loved each other. It was as if taken straight out of a cheesy movie, but Chris could tell Darren meant every last word of it.

 

“You can kiss me if you want to,” Chris decided then, and Darren's eyes lit up.

 

“Okay,” Darren said, looking at Chris's lips immediately.

 

The way his lids hooded his eyes, and how the lighting in the kitchen made Darren's eyelashes cast shadows down cheeks and make them look twice as long... It made him look beautiful. Chris felt his heart leap, and then Darren licked his lips and leaned forward, and they kissed.

 

It was like unclogging the drain in a bathtub filled to the brink with water. Chris, suddenly without hesitation, grabbed a handful of Darren's hair and pushed their lips together hard. Darren made a small noise, but parted his lips and let Chris's tongue in, let him suck and put pressure and take everything. Chris was dizzy with how good it felt and Darren was taken by surprise, almost not kissing back from the force of Chris's lips.

 

Once they parted they were both panting, mouths and cheeks kissed red.

 

“Bedroom?” Darren asked, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. “I... can't feel my legs anymore.”

 

Chris looked down at how Darren was still squatting uncomfortably on the floor and he laughed, put a hand over his mouth.

 

“Oh, God, sorry,” he apologized immediately as he stood up and pulled Darren with him.

 

Darren's knees cracked and Chris laughed even harder.

 

“Talk later just,” Darren said urgently, pulling Chris close as they walked towards Chris's bedroom. “Just... now. Need you.”

 

Before they hit the bed, Chris put his lips to Darren's and this time it was slower. Sweeter. It gave them time to breathe as they kissed, a slow but steady flow of arousal filling them both at the same time. Chris's eyes were still closed when Darren pushed him down on to the bed. Chris sat on the edge of the bed when Darren straddled his lap, chest to chest as their lips worked together.

 

A fresh load of tears fell down Chris's cheeks suddenly, and Darren pulled back when he felt the wetness on his face.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked, both hands coming to dry Chris's cheeks.

 

“Yeah,” Chris said, blinking. “This is... amazing.”

 

Chris opened his mouth to continue, and Darren waited. Their eyes locked, and the chemistry between them was tangible.

 

“I love you,” Chris said.

 

Darren held his breath and his face broke out into a wet smile, tears filling his eyes.

 

“I love you too,” Darren said.

 

They held each other's gazes for a moment. Chris's chest filled with affection, and he let out a wet chuckle that Darren echoed before they closed the gap between their lips again. Darren put his hands in Chris's hair and Chris tugged at the fabric on the back of Darren's shirt.

 

“You're so good,” Darren whispered. “You're so, so good, Chris.”

 

Chris's hand went up under Darren's shirt and felt at his warm back. The skin was tight and firm beneath his fingers. Darren was all soft grazes by the back of his hands onto Chris's chest as they kissed. It felt more intense than many of Darren's experience with full blown sex, even though they were only touching lightly, crotches pressed together and mouths searching and exploring one another. Darren could do only this for however long Chris needed to and he'd be content.

 

“Come here,” Chris said, though, a hand still going up and down the dip of Darren's back under his shirt. “Let's lie down.”

 

Darren followed Chris up the bed and they lied down next to each other, bodies turned in on each other and lips locking back together almost immediately. Taking the pressure off their crotches made them stop and breathe a little, and Chris felt his heart beat harder with the newness of it, his mind starting to catch up with what his body was giving in to so easily. In his mind, this had been bound to happen. He hadn't exactly planned when, but deep down he'd wanted it so, so bad. He had fantasized about it. He had jerked off to it. But there had been a threshold between imagination and reality that he hadn't dared to cross, but here Darren was. Offering himself and loving Chris so much and giving those primal needs and instincts such beautiful meaning.

 

Once they were like this, Chris couldn't understand how he hadd been able to hold off for so long. There had been a hint of what he was missing out on when Darren and Chris kissed during scenes on Glee, but they hadn't been nearly as intimate as the kisses they shared here alone, on top of Chris's bed. Free from make up, free from stilted lines to remember, free from direction and cameras and lights to look into and to not look into. And, Chris suddenly realized, free from anxiety. The pressure that always seemed to nestle inside of him and worry him sick wasn't there. It was replaced by another feeling, one that urged him to pay attention to Darren and Darren only. And Darren reciprocated, mouth to mouth and chest to chest and hands exploring.

 

But when Darren's hand went to feel between Chris's legs, Chris stopped him. He took Darren's hand, threaded their fingers together and put them to his lips. Darren watched, eyes still dark and lustblown, but he didn't move.

 

“What do you want to do?” Chris asked, heart starting to beat a little harder.

 

His cock had twitched with interest as soon as Darren's hand had brushed against the material covering it, but Chris wanted to know what to expect.

 

“I just want to touch you,” Darren said. “Feel you in my hand, I... I want to learn what you like.”

 

Chris swallowed nervously, and Darren kept going.

 

“What do you want?” he asked. “This is _your_ first time... If you want it to be. I'm up for anything, baby.”

 

That word again. That word that could reduce Chris to feel nothing but fondness in his heart for the man lying beside him.

 

“I'm not sure I'll last long, but...,” Chris started. “Could you um... Use your mouth on me? If you're into that...”

 

“You know I'm into that,” Darren grinned, and Chris almost rolled his eyes.

 

It was exactly what Darren had whispered in Chris's ear during their drunken exchange of fantasies a few weeks ago. _I want your cock in my mouth so bad. Wanna taste it._ But Chris had to make sure Darren was into it sober as well. He didn't want to make Darren do anything just because he was scared and fragile and didn't really know how to make himself or Darren direct their arousal to any sort of positive outcome because he was so turned on and nervous, so in love but inexperienced. But Darren said all the right things. And the idea of seeing Darren's face down there, to be able to watch those beautiful lips and those expressive eyes when he was at this point of arousal... He wanted it so bad.

 

Darren's hand went down again and undid the button of Chris's pants, but Chris pulled down the zipper himself. It still felt weird to be touched there. It was one thing to have Darren grind up against it and completely different when the pads of his fingertips pressed against spots that no one else had gotten to touch before. Hands were intimate. Everywhere they touched was left tingling, and the sensation doubled when it was in an area that intimate and private.

 

No one else had ever _seen_ him, and suddenly Chris started to regret wanting Darren's mouth there because that meant he'd have perfect view of his dick. Darren seemed to get where Chris thoughts were heading, because just when he was about to pull down Chris's pants he stopped himself.

 

“We should undress,” Darren said. “Like, completely. Both of us.”

 

Before Chris could nod or say anything, Darren pulled off his own shirt swiftly and started to undo his belt. Okay. If Darren could undress shamelessly then so could he. He tugged off his sweater, not feeling as naked or on display when Darren was already halfway out of his pants next to him. He figured that it would be easier to just do the band aid method, so he pulled off his pants and underwear at the same time as quickly as he could and tried not to stare down at himself once they were off.

 

It proved to be fairly easy once he saw Darren butt-naked next to him, though. Darren was all pale olive skin and chest hair and curly pubes and a hard, dark cock that looked so _heavy_ and nice and _fuck._ Chris was literally going to explode if Darren touched him right now. Hell, he'd explode if his cock as little as brushed against the sheets, so he wrapped a hand around the base of his it to stave off the coiling in his stomach for a little longer. He needed to feel Darren's lips around him before he came. _Needed_ to.

 

Darren came up and kissed Chris on the mouth first, his hand covering the one Chris had around his cock.

 

“You're beautiful,” he said. “I haven't... I just realized I haven't even seen you without a shirt before. You're absolutely _gorgeous._ ”

 

Chris was already flustered and if he even tried to say something it would come out in an incomprehensible splutter, so he just whined against Darren's lips.

 

“I'm going to suck you and lick you and taste you, fuck I can't wait,” Darren groaned, attacking Chris's neck with sucking kisses that would inevitably turn into bruises on Chris's skin. “You don't have to hold off for me, okay, baby? You can come as soon as you need to. I don't mind.”

 

Chris whimpered. The sounds felt weird coming out of him because they reminded Chris of things he'd seen in sex scenes and pornos in which he'd always thought that the actors were overdoing it, but he couldn't keep quiet. Not with Darren groaning dirty fantasies and sucking his skin and stroking up Chris's cock once Chris let go of himself and trusted Darren to take care of it for him.

 

Darren situated himself between Chris's thighs, and at first Chris couldn't look. He just felt something wet down there, gentle and warm and sucking and licking up the side of his cock. He was already leaking with pre come and when Darren had slowly made his way up there, there was a sucking sound that indicated that Darren was actually licking it into his mouth and _tasting it_ right before he closed his lips around the fat head of Chris's cock.

 

“Oh, jeez,” Chris breathed, hips bucking up involuntarily, but Darren pushed them down with both hands and took control.

 

Darren's mouth was tight and nice and _fuck_ he needed to go faster, now, because being this stimulated and hard was starting to hurt.

 

“Look at me,” Darren said suddenly. “I can tell you're about to come. I just... I want you to see.”

 

Chris took a deep, steadying breath. Okay. He was going to come so fucking hard. This felt amazing. Fuck.

 

And he looked down. He looked down and all he saw was big, soft, red lips stretched tight around his pink cock and big eyes and wet curls clinging to a sweaty forehead, and then Darren started bobbing his head hard, lips meeting the hand stroking the base of Chris's cock in the middle and then, _then_ Chris exploded into Darren's mouth, a big breath of relief coming as if _punched_ out of his gut.

 

Chris was pretty sure he blacked out for a second because when he opened his eyes again, Darren was licking the come off his softening cock and looking up at him with a knowing smile.

 

“Good?” he asked, voice teasing.

 

Chris breathed in through quivering lips.

 

“ _Good_ ,” he exhaled.

 

Darren grinned, licked his lips, _swallowed_ , and crawled up the side of Chris's body. His cock was big and blunt, hard against Chris's hip.

 

“Actually, amazing,” Chris said once his brain started to function properly again. His hand went to feel at Darren's lower stomach, so close to his cock but not daring near just yet. “Need help with that?”

 

Darren just nodded, eyes shutting, and oh. He was probably so, so close and hard, almost hurting like Chris had hurt before. So Chris stopped hesitating and took the cock in his hand.

 

It was... nice. It was weird to stroke a cock from this direction, but watching the way Darren's pleasure twitched so bluntly across his facial features made Chris forget the strange, uncomfortable position of his hand and left him staring at how Darren looked as he took him faster. He squeezed at the tip when he got up all the way, and Darren groaned lowly.

 

When Darren's breathing started to quicken and his legs began to tremble, he opened his eyes and looked straight into Chris's. As if he wanted to look straight at him as he came. And then he did, shuddering and eyes forcing themselves closed again and head thrashing to the side as come spurted onto both of their bare stomachs.

 

And then Darren chased Chris's lips, sweet and chaste and whispered _I love you_ s. Chris said it back, couldn't help but, and then his eyes were tearing up again because _he did it_. He actually let himself feel everything and do what he wanted and be who he was, with the person he loved. And once he had he realized just how easy it had been. He hadn't figured he'd be naked in bed with another boy in a long, long time, but he was. He was and the world hadn't ended and it had felt good. He wasn't ashamed of the fact that it had felt good. In his own small way, he'd conquered the world and he was nothing like that scared, unkissed little boy in Clovis, California anymore.

 

He was Chris Colfer. He had a career and a boyfriend and just at the beginning of what was going to be an absolutely amazing sex life, with the one person he wanted it with.

 

And if he did experience another panic attack in his life, he now knew just the fix to stave them off.

 

\- The End.


End file.
